Monday, April 28, 2014

2014 Zane Grey 50 Miler

Due to Extreme Weather the Race Ended up only being 33 Miles. I only made it 17.

The Zane Grey 50 Miler is a race I have been dreaming of
running since I crewed for my buddies in 2012.
I have the utmost respect for its history and lore of it being ruggedly
tuff. Per the Website its “Regarded as
the toughest, roughest and most beautiful 50 mile trail runs in the country. It
runs point-to-point along the Highline trail from Pine to Christopher Creek,
Arizona”

Early on race week I begin to hear chatter of a huge storm
set to roll in the Saturday of the race.
As the week went on, the talk of a more substantial storm lit up Facebook. I begin to worry a bit. I was constantly checking
weather.com for updates. This added to
the anxiety I was already feeling for the race under normal conditions. “It’s the afternoon heat that gets you” I
heard over and over while planning for the race. Now I had to plan for cold weather.

I packed long sleeves, gloves, beanies, extra socks, wind
breakers, water resistant jackets and ton of regular running shirts as extra layers. I chose to use a 4 dollar Wal-Mart poncho,
which is a step above the 99 cent ponchos, for my rain/severe weather barrier.

At 10:45 am on Friday, the day before the race, an email was
sent out warning runners, crews and pacers the National Weather Service had
issued a hazardous weather condition report.
The race would now have 50k and 50 mile options. There was also the possibility of the race
being stopped completely at 50k if the weather was as severe as promised.

My buddies and I arrived at the starting line about 4:15
am. The Pine Trail head parking area was
filled with cars and eager runners. It
was about 52 degrees; 8-10 degrees warmer than expected. I chatted with many friends and other
runners. Some who mentioned they had
already shed some layers. I had on three
layers. I was tempted to shed my jacket
but decided to keep it on and deal with being a little uncomfortable. I was at
the back of the pack when the race started.

I followed the line of headlamps, walking and shuffle stepping
along the trail. Soon it spread out
enough I was able to run a steady pace. It
was really dark even with the many headlights that illuminated the trail. No one tried to pass. Everyone seemed to be working in unison. On cue the darkness began to slowly subside
and as we reached the top of a climb and I heard someone say “look at the
sunrise.” It was beautiful.

When I arrived at Camp Geronimo (Mile 8) I had both my water
bottles filled and immediately took cover under a tarp so I could put on my
rain poncho. I did not realize how wet I was. It had been drizzling a few miles
before Geronimo. The rain was now in
full force. The poncho flared out and Hung like a dress. It hung just above my knees. I quickly decided to pull the back end around
my waist and tie it. Then I rolled and
tucked the front flap under it so it would not flop around in the wind. Perfect I thought.

I told Tim I was heading out. I left Camp Geronimo and hiked the climb searching
for a spot to pee. When I returned to
the trail Tim and Giles were just rounding the Corner. Giles jokingly said I looked like a samurai
and pointed out that he looked like a flasher with the rain coat he was wearing.
Giles, Tim and I stuck together. We
talked nonstop about the weather. Mud
caked our shoes as the rain seemed to be blowing from all angles. This was when I first begin to feel
cold. I knew moving was the best bet if I
wanted to stay warm.

I could not believe my eyes as hail fell and blanketed the forest. The trail became icy and wet. Although it made
for slick and slippery footing I was glad the mud was no longer caking the
bottoms of my shoes. Excitement and
adrenaline fueled me and I picked up the pace.
I splashed through mud and ice; I was having fun. But I was also more noticeably colder. The
poncho did not cover my arm so my
sleeves were soaked through. My shoes were
soaked but my feet felt fine, it was my hands I was worried about.

I arrived at Washington Park (mile 17) around 9:40 am. I was 20 minutes ahead of the cut off. An aid station worker took the water bottles
from my vest. I fought to get my wet gloves off.
Mark Hellenthal, who I am so grateful for, offered me his gloves. I told him I had some in my drop bag. I frantically
looked. I could not find them. Mark, who I think was watching me, said he would
grab me the extra pair he had in his car.
I begin to shiver. My head was
clouded and I begin to panic. I needed
desperately to get moving.

This is the part I know I will have nightmares of about.

My original plan, i thought of a mile before getting to Washington Park, was to stuff my bag of dry clothes under my
poncho and wedge it under my vest straps and leave the aid station. Instead I stared at it and unfortunately
decided to go ahead and change into a dry top. I took off my poncho which was a
big mistake. I immediately begin to
shiver uncontrollably.

That’s when P. Olsen popped his head out of the U-haul truck
I was leaning on, and said come in here its way warmer. I was dazed everything around me was in slow motion. Mark arrived with the gloves and I thanked him
then crawled into the back of the U-haul truck.
J Thompson was also in the truck trying to get warm. All three of us agreed how shitty the
situation was. I tried to make light of
it. Having there company gave me hope
that I could continue on.

I quickly shed my shirts and put on a two more; a
compression top and a long sleeve. I
Looked out of the truck and was glad to see Tim and Giles. Tim was wasting no time and heading back on
the trail. I told him I would catch
up. I desperately needed to get
moving. I put on my poncho and the gloves
Mark had giving me. A volunteer snapped
the clips on my Race vest. She also
grabbed me a piece of PB&J. I inhaled
it. I was 10 feet away from leaving
the aid station when I looked at my poncho and was unsatisfied how it hung and blew
in the wind. I knew that I would get soaked. I was already so cold and
delirious. I absolutely could not remember
how I wore it earlier. (I pulled the
back tight around my waist and rolled the front up)

I decided to get back into the bay of the U-haul truck. I was shivering uncontrollable. Joe Galope (Race Director) looked into the
U-Haul and said there is a car going to the Fish Hatchery. He then asked for bib numbers, but then he
turned away. He never told me I had to
stop. I could have jumped out of the
truck and continued on. But in my
miserable state I said “Joe, who do we give our numbers to?” I then returned the gloves to Mark. I told him thanks and to please offer them to
someone else. I was not going to
continue. I could not stop shaking. I hurried to catch the ride. I
was eager to feel the warmth of a car heater.
Me and 4 other runners piled into a minivan. I was immediately devastated and felt ashamed for wanting to be warm.

When I got to my hotel I sat in the tub as the warm shower
water “rained” on me. Red mud collected
near the drain. It was a nightmare. I could not cry. I played the last few minutes at the aid
station over and over in my mind.
Eventually I got up and got dressed.
My buddy Tim, who I made trip to ZG with, was still on the trail. I wanted to see him finish. (Prior to leaving Washington Park I heard the
finish line would be at the Fish Hatchery Mile 33)

My heart cheered and broke every time a runner finished.

Tim Widener you are a beast.
Many congrats to all my running friends who finished. Also shout out to all who fell short. The weather conditions out there were by far
the worst I have ever encountered.

In the end, my first
Zane Grey was as epic as I Imagined. I
can’t say the trail kicked my ass. The
weather is what did me in. I failed to properly
prepare. I have been told I made a smart decision, and
possibly avoided injury or sickness. There
is a lot left to be discovered.

1 comment:

Alex, what a harrowing day! Never doubt for one second that you made the right choice. I made the wrong one, and it almost cost me dearly. You are a trooper! Your smiling face was a welcome sight in that U-haul!!! Hugs to you my friend. We will live to run another day :)